


Bad to Worse

by AutisticWriter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Diary/Journal, Drowning, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Friendship, Gen, Hiking, Hospitals, Huddling For Warmth, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, Major Character Injury, One Shot, POV Lance (Voltron), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 10:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Lance, Keith, Hunk and Pidge go on a hiking trip. Things start to wrong from the offset, but it soon gets even worse…





	Bad to Worse

Monday

We’re lost. Keith keeps telling me to not to be so pessimistic, but I’m just telling the truth. We are lost. At least Hunk believes me…

We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, because now we are nowhere near the trail, making the map practically useless.

We’ve set up camp under a tree, and are currently sitting in the light of a wind-up lamp and eating crappy food. I’m cold, damp and exhausted, and have massive blisters on my feet. None of the others are being sympathetic. When I told them about my blisters, these are the responses I got:

**Keith** : Poor you. In case you can’t tell, I’m being sarcastic.

**Hunk** : And? Lance, buddy, I love you and all, but they’re only blisters. It’s not that bad.

**Pidge** : I’ve got blisters too, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.

Sometimes, I don’t know why we’re friends.

 

Tuesday

We still haven’t found our way back onto our trail, and I’m starting to wonder if we’re going around in circles. I can’t be the only one who’s feeling like we’re in _The Blair Witch Project_.

To make matters worse, Pidge is injured. She slipped on a wet stone earlier and went flying. She fell down a steep slope, and, by the time we managed to grab hold of her, she’d caught her leg on a sharp stone, and there was a massive rip in her jeans. And she was using some rather colourful language, if you know what I mean.

As I’m our designated first aider, it was up to me to find out what was wrong. I soon found that she had a three inch long gash running along her shin. I cleaned and patched it up easily, but I’m a bit concerned that it might get infected. When I raised this concern, Keith told me to stop worrying.

But I can’t help it.

 

Wednesday

Pidge’s cut is making it hard for her to walk, so me and Hunk have spent all day helping her limp along at a painfully slow pace. My shoulders and back are killing me, and my blisters have bled all over my socks. I’m so tired; I’m in desperate need of a good night’s sleep.

 

Thursday

Today has been a fucking nightmare.

Firstly, Pidge’s cut is getting infected. Her leg has gone red and shiny, and Pidge said it hurts like hell. It’s making it even harder for her to walk, but we can’t stop. We need to find our way back to the trail, or who knows how long we’re going to be stuck out here?

Second, I managed to drop the emergency cell phone (a crappy $20 block of plastic that looks like it was made in 2002) into a river. As the other guys all yelled at me, I stuck my hand into the freezing water and managed to fish out the phone. But, when I tried to turn it on, I found that it was dead.

Everyone was in a mood with me about it until we came to my third and final point: the moment when Hunk dropped the matches in a puddle. It was fucking annoying, but at least I’m being left alone now.

So now we have no phone, no matches and no idea where on Earth we are, we’re running out of food, and one of us is getting an infection.

Brilliant.

 

Friday

I woke up in the middle of the night shivering violently with numb fingers and toes. I had to put another jumper and a pair of gloves on before I could get back to sleep.

It was even colder this morning; the ground was covered in frost and all of the muddy puddles are now frozen. It hasn’t warmed up all day. All of us are cold, despite the amount we’ve been walking. There’s still no sign of the trail. Pidge’s leg looks worse than it did yesterday (it’s now oozing pus), and we’re running low of supplies. We are all knackered and freezing and achy, and I just want to go home. I miss Mom so much.

 

Saturday

I don’t know what to write. I thought the other day was a nightmare, but today... fucking hell.

As we were walking along (very slowly, as Pidge’s leg is even worse), we came across a small river. I was pretty sure it was the same river that ruined our phone, further confirming my _Blair Witch_ theory. But, thanks to the freezing weather, the river had frozen.

Keith, ever the idiot, decided that we should try to walk across it. When I told him it probably wasn’t safe, he told me to ‘stop worrying’ and laughed, but, for once, Hunk and Pidge backed me up.

But Keith insisted that he’d be fine, and, before we could stop him, he climbed down the riverbank and stepped onto the ice. Just as I had worried, the ice started to creak under his weight. Keith stared at us all as the ice around him cracked – and then, all of a sudden, the ice gave way, and he fell into the water. It only came up to his waist, but the current quickly pulled him right under, submerging his head. We all swore violently and slid down the bank, trying to grab Keith’s flailing hands. I managed to grasp one of his wet hands, and it was freezing cold. Pidge and Hunk grabbed hold of him too, and we managed to get his head back above the surface.

When we finally dragged Keith out of the river, he was totally soaked, and was already shivering violently. Weak and limp, he didn’t help us as we pulled him onto the riverbank. Keith choked up a mouthful of water and then flopped back against the frozen ground, gasping for breath. Pidge and Hunk were panicking, and Keith couldn’t stop swearing, but I knew what we needed to do.

As I remembered all the stuff from my first aid course, Pidge, Hunk and I removed Keith’s soaking wet clothes, leaving him in his damp underwear. Everything in his backpack was also soaked, so we gave him some of our clothes. Soon, Keith was clad in ill-fitting but warm clothes, and had three pairs of socks and gloves on to try and stop him getting frostbite.

Hunk and I half carried, half dragged Keith back to our old camp, Pidge limping along behind us. When we got back, we were all desperately out of breath. We got Keith into his sleeping bag, and I pulled another hat onto his head.

Keith apologised to me earlier, and I wanted to forgive him, but I’m still not able to. Despite how pathetic and ill he now looks, it was still his fault. But, even though I won’t forgive him, I’m still worried about him.

 

Sunday

I spent the entire night in Keith’s sleeping bag with him. I didn’t sleep, and I don’t think he did either, but it was the only way I could think of to keep him warm. At one point, he started whimpering from the pain, and kept mumbling about how he wished his older brother Shiro was here. From what I know about Shiro and his military training, I wished he was here too.

Keith is still freezing cold, and he can’t stop shivering. He’s definitely got hypothermia. I don’t know what we’re going to do about him.

Pidge has stopped complaining about her cut, but, judging by the way she limps when she walks, she’s clearly still in a lot of pain. I just hope her leg isn’t getting worse.

**Later:**

I’ve just had another look at Pidge’s wound. It’s really bad. The swelling has spread right up to her knee, and there is even more pus. I don’t know what to do. Keith’s getting worse too; he’s finding it harder to stay awake, and I dread to think what might happen if he loses consciousness. We need to do something about them both. But what can we do?

 

Monday

Hunk and I set off just before it got dark, determined to get help as quickly as possible. We walked all night, knowing we wouldn’t be able to sleep when we knew our friends were dangerously ill. We walked and walked and walked, until I felt my feet bleeding and I was very lightheaded. Hunk had to hold onto my arm to help me keep my balance. At one point, Hunk started crying, and I didn’t blame him.

Eventually, we found a small village, housed at the bottom of the mountains we were trying to explore. We knocked on the first front door we found, and explained our situation to the couple who lived there. We must have looked awful, because they looked really concerned and let us into their house. They gave us hot chocolate and blankets and let Hunk call Mountain Rescue on their phone.

The Mountain Rescue team were amazing. They found Pidge and Keith and airlifted them to nearest hospital. The couple gave me and Hunk a lift up to the hospital, and we got to meet up with them. They were both in a really bad way, but are already starting to recover.

As I write this, I’m sitting beside Keith’s hospital bed. They’ve warmed him up, so he’s no longer hypothermic, but he still looks dreadful. The nurse said his temperature was only 90 degrees when he was brought in – if it had been just a bit lower, he might have died.

I went to see Pidge earlier. The doctors are keeping her in overnight whilst her antibiotics start to work. She’s not in so much pain now, and her painkillers are making her very groggy, which is quite funny to see, as she looks a bit drunk.

Me and Hunk were both checked over, and they made us drink this rehydration stuff, because we were both really dehydrated. They said we could leave, but we hung around with Pidge and Keith until the nurses chucked us out.

 

Tuesday

Hunk and I spend the night in a nearby hotel. I slept for fourteen hours straight!

My feet are sore and I’m still tired, but I feel so much better now I know Keith and Pidge are safe and recovering.

Mom phoned me this morning. Apparently, she saw about us on the news, and was annoyed that I didn’t tell her what had happened. But then she broke down and said, “I’m so glad you’re all safe, Lance.”

“So I am, Mom,” I said, and I wasn’t ashamed when tears started to run down my face.

Because I was just so relieved. I’m so glad we’re all safe.

And I’m never going hiking again in my life.


End file.
